Deadly Games
by JessiCAT1989
Summary: Arthur's eyes flew to the crimson wall flooding his vision. What had he done? Rated for language, and violent nature...
1. Not So Friendly Greeting

_Hey guys! Back with another story! This is going to be another, hopefully creepy one. And this time, it centers around Arthur. =P_

_All Right. Enough chatter. On with the story!_

_Disclaimer-As always, I do not own Hetalia. Sigh..._

Arthur's eyes lit up at the stack of papers before him. Finally, his manuscript was finished. Now that bloody frenchman would lay off of him. With a small grin still plastered to his pale features, the blonde set the papers down on his desk. He would hand it in tomorrow. Right now, the exhausted writer needed his rest.

He yawned as he stood from his chair. This would be his best book yet. He could feel it. Everyone loved a good horror story. And one with a crazed murderer was even better. Old frog face wouldn't have anything left to criticize him about after this.

As he strode through the halls of his expansive house, he could feel the anticipation rising in his throat, until he was sure he would shout of his excitement. Not that anyone would be able to hear it. The man lived alone. That was the only downside to his success. Arthur had never been able to find someone truly devoted to him. To his money, of course. That part was easy.

He quickly shook the thought from his mind. Tonight was to be full of bliss. He had worked tirelessly for months on that book. Now it was finished, and he had nothing to worry about.

Finally arriving in his bedroom, the man shed his white, button down shirt and jeans for a plain white t-shirt, and boxers. Pulling back the blankets, he slid in.

Sleep was not hard to find for once, as he closed his eyes, and almost immediately drifted off.

...

The next day arrived, and like clockwork, Arthur awoke to the chiming of his cell phone. Sitting up in bed, his eyes shot to the time listed on the phone. "Bloody hell..." He growled. It was only nine o'clock. He had only been able to sleep for five hours. What a great night's sleep...

He flipped the phone open to mumble a "Hello," striving to be as pleasant as possible.

"Hellooo, Arthur! How are you this morning?"

The Englishman rolled his eyes. "Fine. What is it, Francis?"

"Well, you certainly aren't very chatty." Complained the man on the other line. "Anyway, I was calling about your book..."

"Its finished."

"Oh! It is? Wonderful! Can you bring it to my office today?"

"That was the plan." Arthur spat. Somehow, everytime he had to speak with the editor, he felt his patience wither away quite rapidly.

Fortunately, it seemed Francis was too absorbed in his own work to notice. "Sounds fantastic. Why don't you bring it down around...shall we say, three o'clock?"

"Fine. Sounds great."

There was a pause, and Arthur wondered if maybe Francis had already hung up. However, he quickly heard the man's overly obnoxious voice flood through the speaker again. "Soooo, how about that invitation to go get coffee sometime?"

Oh God...not **that** again. "No. Now if you'll excuse me, I must be getting off." And with that, Arthur shut his phone. Why didn't Francis take the hint he didn't want to be friends with him? This was strictly business as far as he was concerned. Arthur wasn't looking to make friends. He had enough.

Well, if you could count Alfred who was practically his brother. And maybe Ludwig. But he was more of a mutual friend of Alfred's. All right...so he didn't have many friends. But who cared? He was about to break out into the industry. All he would need would unfold before him like the red carpet he knew one day he would tread when they made his book into a five star film...

Arthur stretched his arms out before him as he slowly rose from the bed. No point in trying to go back to sleep now. He needed to get ready to meet with crazy, overly friendly Francis.

He quickly hopped in the shower, washing his unruly hair. Once he had finished, he decided to read through his manuscript one more time. The Englishman meandered down to his office. Seating himself in front of his desk, he scanned the many pages. He just **had **to make sure it was perfect.

His story was about a man who, one day begins finding a statue of a clown on his door step everyday. No matter how many times he disposes of it, another shows up in its place. At first, the man thinks its just a prank played by a few mean-mannered kids. However, he finds this isn't the truth, and needless to say, is brutally murdered.

He grinned as goosebumps formed on his arms. This story frightened even him. And he had written it. Francis had nothing on him now. There was no way he wouldn't enjoy this story.

Finally, it was time to head to his office. He watched intently as Francis's crystal eyes scanned the papers before him.

"This is very well-written. A little creepy for my liking, but I think the readers will enjoy it." He smiled up at Arthur's expectant face.

"So does that mean its going to be published?" His confidence had all but dissipated at Francis's silence.

Francis nodded. "Of course. We'll have it out as soon as possible." An awkward quiet filled the room, until the Frenchman spoke up once more. "So, are you sure you don't want to go out for drinks?"

"Yes! Will you quit asking?" When Francis frowned at his outburst, Arthur continued. "Look, Francis, I'm a very busy man. I don't have time to go out." That was a lie, but he didn't want to offend the blonde before him any further.

Francis seemed to recover rather quickly as he nodded. "Of course. I completely understand. Anyway, do find time to enjoy your break, all right? I feel as though all you ever do as work. Go out, and find a pretty young woman to spend some time with." He winked as Arthur rose from his seat.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I had best be going. I've got a milliion things to do today." Another lie. Oh well. He did want to enjoy his time away from writing, and to do so, he would spend it in seclusion.

On his way home, he received a call from Alfred. "Hello." He greeted, one arm holding his phone, and the other grasping the steering wheel rather firmly.

"Hey, dude! 'Sup? How did it go with the editor?"

Oh, so he had remembered. That was shocking. Arthur's grin widened at this. "Very well. He says he's going to publish it."

"That's awesome, man! Hey! Wanna go celebrate? We can go to that new bar downtown."

Arthur pondered that for a moment. He **really **wanted to go back to his house to relax. But, it might be a nice alternative to actually get out for once...

No. He needed to have some time to himself. "Um...can we perhaps take a rain check on that? I'm rather tired, you see, and-"

"Cool! I'll come pick you up in an hour!" And with that, the American hung up.

Blast! Had he not been listening to a word he had said? Arthur sighed as the tension in his shoulders slowly released. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. He hadn't seen his friend in a couple of weeks due to his obsessive writing. This was most likely just what he needed. A time to get out, and loosen up.

When he arrived home, he swapped his suit out for his favorite pair of dark wash jeans, and his green polo. He had just enough time to comb through his hair before he heard a honk sound outside.

"Damn, already?" He asked himself. He fluttered to the window to indeed find Alfred's red car awaiting him.

Darting outside, he hopped into the passenger seat. His gaze drifted to the blonde behind the wheel. Alfred's hair was combed neatly, and he wore a blue button shirt paired with khakis. Definitely his "chick picking up" outfit as he so crudely called it. So that was what this get together was about...

"Hey, dude! Ya ready? I feel like I haven't seen you in years!"

"Sure. So where are we headed to again?" Arthur asked, trying his best to keep the irritation out of his voice.

"That place 'Max's Pub'. Figured it'd be a good place to grab a few drinks."

Arthur nodded. The rest of the car ride consisted of Alfred asking about Arthur's latest novel, and the Englishman did his best to reply without sounding too bored.

When they arrived, Arthur realized right off the bat why this had been Alfred's choice. All of the waitresses inside were dressed in scantily clad clothes. Great...

They took a seat at one of the tables in the back of the dimly lit bar, and after a few minutes, a blonde with boobs that were clearly fake marched up to them with an overly cheerful smile. "Hello, boys." She greeted in a flirty voice. "What can I get you to drink?"

"Budweiser for me." Alfred answered.

The woman nodded, jotting it down in her book. Her dark eyes then focused on Arthur.

"What do you have here?" He asked.

Her eyes lit up at what he was sure was his accent. Damn American women...

"Budweiser, Heineken, Shocktop, Sam Adams and Blue Moon are our drafts. The bottles are a little more expensive, though."

"I'll take a Heineken." Bollocks. He hated all of those. But he was in no mood to listen to this girl's high-pitched voice any longer.

When she strolled away from the table, Arthur narrowed his eyes dangerously at Alfred.

"What?" He asked, obviously not seeing the reasoning behind Arthur's annoyance.

"I can tell why you wanted to come here now."

"What are you talking about, man? I like it here because its a cool place to go."

"Oh, bollocks. We both know that isn't the truth." Arthur said, propping his head on his hands. "You wanted to come here for the women."

Alfred opened his mouth to argue, but quickly shut it. "Yeah...I guess you're right. But I did want to get you out of the house. Look, you need to try and go on a date once in a while. You can't just stay holed up in your house all the time."

He did have a point. Blast him for making a good argument for once.

The waitress returned with their beers, shooting a wink in Arthur's direction before walking away once more.

Alfred wasted no time in slamming back his tall Budweiser. Arthur followed suit. Even if he hated to admit it, Alfred was right. This was a nice change to actually be out of his home. But he wouldn't go so far to hook up with one of these trashy looking women, though. That was out of the question. And he wouldn't allow Alfred to either.

The night went on as Arthur attempted to keep Alfred from grinding on a brunette dancing to the live music a few times in his drunken stupor. Eventually, he decided it was time to head home.

"Alfred, give me your keys. I'm driving."

Alfred's dilated pupils rested on the blonde before him. "No...I can drive! I'm only a little tipsy..." He chuckled to himself as he played with the buttons on his shirt.

Arthur rolled his eyes, digging into one of the drunken man's pockets. Luckily, it was where he had stashed the keys to his mustang.

He extracted them before the blonde even had the time to notice, and drug him outside.

"All right, Alfred, I'm going to set you in the back seat. Lie down, all right?" He handed him one of the bags found in the messy vehicle. Alfred had already visited the restroom inside at least three times to puke up all the alcohol he had consumed.

Once he had the younger man laying flat in the back, he stepped into the driver's seat.

The ride home consisted of listening to the gruesome sounds of Alfred relieving what was left of the contents of his stomach into the plastic bag.

When they finally arrived back at his house, Arthur began to drag Alfred up the walk to his house. However, something caught his eye on his porch. As he drew closer, he noticed it was the statue of a clown.

"Bloody hell..."

"That's some scary shit, man...why is that outside your door?"

"I have no idea. Probably that wanker Francis. He must be more excited about my book than I thought. SWell, whatever...let's get you inside to lay down."

He grabbed the statue, and brought it inside with him.

The night went on without any other excitement, other than Alfred's hideous retching.

If only they knew what would greet them the following morning...

_Whoo! Seriously...I would've chucked that clown statue across the country...creepy ass things..._

_Hope you all enjoyed! Please leave me your feedback! You know I love it! =P_


	2. Unforseen Finding

_Back with another chapter! _

_Disclaimer-I don't own Hetalia, danget!_

Arthur awoke to a rather loud sound. He couldn't quite make it out at first. However, upon further awakening, he found it to be Alfred shouting for him.

"Bloody wanker..." He mumbled, sitting up in bed. He followed in the direction the American's voice had come from until he found the blonde in question standing in the living area with the front door open.

"D-dude...I thought you got rid of that clown thing..."

Arthur rolled his eyes. Of course he had. Why was Alfred acting so unglued? He stepped forward to see exactly what his younger brother was pointing at.

There, seated on the porch was another tiny clown statue. "That damn Francis! How many of those does he have?" He quickly snatched the statue from his front porch. Marching into the kitchen, he threw it into the awaiting trash bin.

Alfred, who had followed him furrowed a brow, not entirely convinced at the Frenchman's involvement. "Um, dude? Why would he have come to your house in the middle of the night to stick that there? Doesn't make much sense."

Damn! That cursed American had finally brought up a valid point. Too bad it was when Arthur hadn't been expecting it.

He pondered that thought for a moment, then almost immediately, shook it off. No. He wasn't going to bring up that possibility. His book was fiction. Nothing more. There was no way some crazed murderer was coming after him. Especially not when he had created that character with his own mind. It was just Francis getting back at him for refusing to join him for drinks. That was all.

"Dude?"

Arthur snapped his gaze back to the awaiting blonde. "Its nothing to worry about. Anyway, why don't I whip us up something to eat? I'm certain you're starving."

Alfred visibly paled at the thought of food, and almost immediately darted off in the direction of the nearest bathroom. All right. So maybe he wasn't hungry per say, but Arthur was. And hopefully by the time the food was ready, Alfred would be as well.

He quickly gathered the tools to make his famous "full breakfast". First on the list would be to cook the sausages and eggs since those would take the most time.

He already had toast that would go great with the marmalade he had made the previous day, so at least that was one less step for the Englishman.

After another half hour of preparing the food, Arthur portioned enough for both he and Alfred on two separate plates. By now, he was sure Alfred would be finished with his God-awful retching.

Once both were seated at the table in his large kitchen, Arthur was surprised to see Alfred gulping down his food at a particularly fast rate. Sure, the American loved food, but hadn't he just gotten through with puking like a savage?

"Man, Arthur, this food rocks! It tastes sooo good right now!" Praised the blonde from across the table, as he jammed another sausage into his mouth. Did he ever stop eating?

"I'm glad to hear it. I was hoping you would enjoy it."

The rest of breakfast ticked by without much excitement, and once Alfred had finished his third plate of food, Arthur started on the dishes. Alfred remained in the kitchen with him, drabbling on about some nonsense Arthur was certain he wouldn't be interested in hearing. So, for the most part, he had blocked the man out.

However, one line stuck out to British man as he dried off one of the plates they had used. "But seriously, dude. Thanks for driving me back here last night."

Arthur's eyes widened involuntarily, startled that Alfred had thanked him for something so trivial. "It was nothing. I couldn't let you try and drive us home drunk, now could I?"

Alfred let out a small laugh in response.

The two fell silent for a few more moments until Alfred let out a rather shrill shriek.

"Bloody hell! What's gotten into you?" Shouted a rather irritated Arthur.

Alfred's only form of response was the evident panic on his face as he stared out the window behind Arthur.

Curious. What was up with him? Arthur slowly turned his gaze back to find a foot dangling just beyond the window.

"What the hell?" When he shifted his body enough to look up, he found the rest of the individual. It appeared to be that of a young man hanging from the tree in his back yard. The corpse was dressed in business attire, but his face was covered in white make-up, and red lipstick.

"D-dude...wh-what is that?" Asked Alfred, his voice trembling.

Arthur shook his head, too much in shock to respond. This was becoming quite odd. Isn't this how his book had started? As much as he wanted to, he couldn't pin this on Francis. This was too elaborate to be a prank pulled by him.

And this body was definitely real. "Call the police." Arthur instructed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Wasting no time, Alfred turned, and found the cordless phone behind him.

Arthur tuned the man out as he gave the operator on the other line information. He was half-tempted to go outside, and see for himself if the body was real. But he couldn't bring himself to. What if the killer was still out there, waiting for him to make his appearance?

This was definitely creepy, and way too similiar to the first chapter in his book to be some odd coincidence...

He listened as Alfred ended the call. "They're on their way."

Arthur nodded slightly, still only half listening.

Alfred made his way over to the man, giving him a light pat on the shoulder. "Are you okay, man?"

Again, Arthur slowly nodded. Did he dare tell Alfred his concern? Would he ridicule him for even making that connection?

The two decided to migrate into the living room to wait for the police. Neither could bring themselves to sit. They just paced the floor, waiting for any sign of a cop car.

Finally, they watched a two pulled up in front of Arthur's house.

First, the officers seemed to spot the body, and one began to take photographs of it. Another came to the door, and Arthur, slightly too eager, whipped the door open to meet him.

"Hi. I'm officer Garza." He paused as Arthur nodded in acknowledgement. "May I come in?"

Arthur stepped aside, and gestured the brunette to come in.

Once he had taken a seat, he pulled out a petite notebook, and began drilling the two about the mysterious body.

"No. I have no idea who that is, or how he got to be tied up in my tree. I just want to know the murderer isn't out there, lurking somewhere." Arthur spat as one of his answers. This was helping nothing. He had thought at first, having an armed man would settle his nerves. But this did not seem to be the case. They were only making him nervous with all of these useless questions.

Before Garza could respond, there was a shout from outside. Garza immediately leapt from his seat, darting out the front door. The other two followed hesitantly, to find the other officer pinned to another tree with sword. Blood was dripping down the trunk at an alarming rate, and for a moment, Arthur was sure he was dead.

But when Garza called the other man's name, he opened his eyes, just enough to see his fellow officer standing before him. "H-he's gone...he ran away...into the woods..."

"Who, John? Who did this to you?" Garza pressed. But the man shut his eyes once more, having lost consciousness. "Damnet!" The brunette yelled, hurtling his fist next to his friend's body. "How am I supposed to find this prick?"

Arthur wondered that for a moment as well...until his emerald eyes turned upwards, and with a chilling realization, he had a good idea who had done it...

The body in the tree was gone...

_Oooo. Spooky! _

_Yay! Second chapter finished! Woot! _

_Hope you guys liked it! Please let me know what you think!_


	3. Fear

_All right, guys! Finally back with another chapter! _

_I'm loving my reviews on here! Even the ones that had nothing to do with my story...ya crazies...but I'll take it! =P I like grilled cheese, too. So I can't judge. _

_Anyway, on with the story!_

_Disclaimer-I don't own Hetalia...jerks...=[_

Arthur remained frozen, trying his best to voice that the body had disappeared. But nothing came out. All he could do, was watch as the paramedics finally arrived to cart the injured officer away. Judging from the shape he had left in, he most likely wouldn't be making it through the night. The British man had noticed when he laid eyes on the young officer, he had been cut in such a way, that his intestines were visible.

It seemed that officer Garza was too absorbed in making sure his comrade was all right, as he fled almost right after, telling the remaining two at the house that another policeman would be sent over.

But that had been a half hour ago. And yet, Arthur still, foolishly stood in his backyard, eyes glued to the spot the body had been previously hanging. He listened as Alfred drabbled on about different theories. Did he seriously not notice the obvious absence here? 

"I wonder who could've cut that dude! This is really some scary shit, bro!" When the elder man still didn't respond, Alfred went on. "Like, I wonder if your house is...haunted." His voice faltered at the last word.

Arthur could feel the irritation, mixed with terror begin to bubble to the surface as he finally found his voice again. "You idiot! Did you fail to notice the corpse is gone?"

Alfred furrowed a brow, then turned his gaze upwards to indeed find no one there. "Shit! Where did it go?"

"Bloody hell if I know! The more pressing matter is how did it move?"

Alfred seemed to ponder that question for a moment. Finally, he shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe the paramedics took it with them when they showed up, and we just didn't notice."

Arthur shook his head. "No. He was gone when we came out here with Garza. Something's not quite right here..."

He felt as Alfred continued to stare on at him.

A car door shutting silenced the two, and Alfred ran to see who it was. When he jogged back, he announced, as promised, another officer had shown up.

Arthur nodded, making his way to the front yard to greet the man. Maybe he'd listen to him about the mysterious disappearance of the corpse.

Just as the man was raising his fist to knock on the door, Arthur called out to him. "Over here!"

The brown-haired man turned his dark eyes to find Arthur. He sluggishly made his way over, his husky build clearly slowing him down. When he finally reached Arthur, he introduced himself as officer Williams. He then began to drill the british man on what had happened previous to his arriving.

"Well, you see," He began, leading the policeman to his backyard. "My friend and I noticed the body of a man hanging from one of my trees. So, when we called to have a couple of officers come check it out for us, one was injured gravely. And I noticed even before they had both gone, the body had disappeared."

The brunette nodded, jotting a few notes down in an identical notebook to the one Garza had held. And when they arrived in front of the tree Alfred was still staring into, he jotted down more notes, and studied the trunk for any evidence.

After what seemed like hours, he took his leave, telling the men he would let them know if they found anything, blah blah blah...

Arthur sighed. The policeman hadn't even seemed interested in hearing about the odd presence of the corpse. Was he the only one who found it odd the man had had his face painted like a clown?

They had returned to the living room, seating themselves in an identical pair of armchairs, and Arthur was sure Alfred had noticed how on edge he seemed.

"Hey, dude. You want me to stay the night again? Do you think it would make you feel any better?"

Arthur considered that for a moment. Of course it would. But did he really want to be treated like a small child who had just witnessed their first horror film? Eventually, Alfred wouldn't be able to keep spending the night at his house, so it was best the blonde ignore his fear for the night. This was probably all some odd coincidence, right?

"No. That's quite all right. I should be fine tonight, but I do thank you for the offer." When Alfred continued to stare, clearly not buying his brave act, Arthur forced a smile.

A few more moments went by, and finally Alfred nodded. "K." He then stood to his feet, stretching his arms as he did so. "But lemme know if you change your mind. I'm gonna head on home and take a nap."

Arthur stood as well. "Sure. I'll see you later. Be careful on your drive home."

When Alfred had said his goodbye, he strode through the door, and Arthur was once again alone. Maybe letting him leave had been a bad idea...

"No! I'll be fine on my own." Arthur thought to himself.

This whole thing was just a coincidence...he would just go on about his day, as if nothing had happened...

right?

_All right. I know I've been bad these last couple days about updating. Sorry! Trying my best, but I've been super busy! _

_And I know this chapter was kind of short, but I wanted to get __**something **__up for you guys! Hope ya liked it, and __**please **__leave me some feedback! I love me the reviews!_


	4. Grisly Death

_Heeeeyyyyy! Back again! _

_I know its taken me some time to update on anything, but its been hard for me to really be inspired on any of my stories. _

_Oh well! I finally got it, and I'll definitely be updating on some of my other ones soon!_

_Anyway, enough chatter!_

_Disclaimer-I don't own Hetalia...='{_

Arthur rolled out of bed. Something definitely wasn't right, and he could feel it. Somehow, he felt as though someone was in the room with him. The man cautiously strode across the room to find the light switch on the wall.

When his fingers found the small white object, he hesitated for a moment. 'Oh come on, you coward. You can do this...' He thought to himself. Finally, gaining the courage to flip it, the once pitch black room was illuminated in the familiar bright light.

His green eyes slowly scanned the room. But he found nothing.

That is...until he found something that caused him to freeze where he stood. There, directly to the left of his bed was the statue of a clown. The way it had been turned, it was staring straight at him.

Now, of course he knew it wasn't alive, but the fact it's beady eyes had been set on him, uneased him greatly. That, and the unsettling factor that someone had broken into his house, and while he had slept, been in his bedroom.

Before he knew it, Arthur had his cell phone in hand, dialing 911.

Twenty minutes later, he was speaking to another officer. They checked all over his house, and his property to find any trace of the intruder. But found nothing.

Though Arthur insisted to have someone watch over his home during the night, the cops disagreed, stating it was probably some kids playing a prank on him.

"Thank you for all of your help, anyway." He told them in response of their refusal.

He sat in his living area for a while, trying desperately to relax. But, he could tell from the way his hands were still trembling, that this plan was in vain.

Perhaps Alfred's offer to sleep over hadn't expired. Phone still in hand, Arthur dialed the American's number.

It rang a few times, then went straight to Alfred's obnoxiously long voicemail.

All right. Maybe he should try again?

He attempted to reach the younger man a few more times. All with the same result.

All right. Fine. If Alfred couldn't come, then Kiku was his next best option. He hadn't spoken to the man in quite sometime, but maybe Kiku would show mercy on him, and come over. Anyway, the small asian man would definitely help him think logically on this situation, and most likely make him feel silly for even being afraid in the first place.

Arthur smiled at the thought as he punched in Kiku's number on his phone.

Luckily, Kiku picked up on the fourth ring.

"Hello?" Came his small voice.

"Hello, Kiku...I was wondering, if by chance you could head on over to my place? I'm...having some trouble sleeping."

There was a pause on the other end. "Arthur...do you know what time it is?"

Emerald eyes glanced at the clock on the wall. Three A.M. Yeah...maybe an inconvenient time to call. Nonetheless, he was desperate.

"Of course. But, something is going on here...Can you just...come over? I really don't wish to be alone right now." His voice trembled at the last sentence, and Arthur suddenly felt rather ashamed of his anxious behavior.

However, it seemed to convince the man on the other line, because he assured the british man he would arrive as soon as possible.

Once Arthur had hung up, he flipped his television on. Surely something would be on to keep his mind off the night's events.

He continued watching for quite some time, and finally, he checked the clock again.

An hour had passed since he had spoken with Kiku. The man only lived about fifteen minutes away. What was taking so long?

Before he could stop himself, the blonde found himself dialing his friend's number again.

He waited for the familiar questioning voice, but it never came. Just endless ringing. If Arthur remembered one thing of the stoic man, it was that he **always **answered his cell phone. **Always. **Even when he was driving. A nasty habit, but usually for his friends, a good one.

He tried again and again to reach the man. Still, no answer.

Should he step outside just in case he had arrived?

Arthur sidled over his front door, gripping the handle rather tightly.

'Just calm down. He's probably just now pulling up. Maybe he lost his phone, or something...'

He finally turned the knob, opening the door a crack.

It was all that was needed...

There, greeting him was Kiku's corpse, blood dripping down his still shocked face.

On the door, painted in what Arthur interpreted to be the blood of the dead man before him, were the words;

"No one can help you now."

_I really hate that I had to kill Kiku off. He's definitely one of my favorite characters. But in a legit scary story, someone __**does **__have to die, right? =[_

_Anyway, please leave me some feedback! You know I definitely love it!_


	5. Face

_Back with another chapter! WOOHOO! _

_Seriously loving the reviews! I like to know that this story is actually creeping somebody out. It makes me SMILE! See?- ^_^_

_Anyway, on with it, shall we?_

_Disclaimer-Still don't own Hetalia...sigh..._

...

One thing was for certain. Arthur no longer felt silly for feeling terrified to be alone.

Cops, and coroners were buzzing all over his property. He had just finished speaking to an officer, and all he wanted now was to be somewhere safe, and quiet.

He had finally reached Alfred, and the man was on his way over. He hadn't told the man exactly what was going on. The british man had been too hysterical to speak clearly enough, so Alfred had simply told the man he'd get dressed, and race on over.

That had only been fifteenish minutes ago, so it wasn't a surprise he hadn't arrived yet. But Arthur wished desperately for him to. He needed a familiar face right now to tell him everything would be all right. Somehow, when the police told him this, it wasn't very reassuring.

When Alfred's bright red car did pull up in front of his house, Arthur could tell the american was already rubbernecking at the crime scene. When he finally exited the car, he raced over to the yard, where he was greeted by an officer.

"He's with me. I called him here." Arthur stated, having made his way over to the two.

The officer merely nodded, striding off.

When they were alone, Alfred furrowed a brow at the man before him. "Dude! What happened?" He must've noticed the look of horror on Arthur's face, because he added another, "Dude?"

Arthur shook his head, gaze falling to the ground. "They...killed Kiku...and its all my fault!" Tears stung at his eyes, but he blinked them back. No. He was a grown man. The man would not allow himself to cry. Especially not in front of Alfred.

Alfred was silent, causing Arthur to look up at him. His face had gone completely white. His eyes were flashing in many different directions, and Arthur could almost read his mind.

Clearly, at first he had been sure Arthur was lying. But then, he must've remembered the presence of the police. On top of that, his front door, and porch were coated in the Japanese man's blood.

"...Oh my...God...this is totally some scary shit. There's so much...blood..."

At least he was speaking now. Too bad he still sounded like a moron.

Arthur nodded. "Yeah. It..it was...it was bad." He finally choked out.

Another hour passed, and finally the cops left. Their tape remained, shutting the house off from the outside world.

Alfred quickly shuttled Arthur back to his house. But neither could sleep. Every time Arthur closed his eyes, the image of Kiku would pop up.

And he knew after what Alfred had seen left over, there was no way he could sleep.

So, instead Alfred turned his television on. He flipped through channel, after channel. Arthur knew it was just background noise though. Neither could focus on anything flashing on the screen. And on top of that, they couldn't even find words to make conversation.

Not only was the night's events too traumatizing for the men to handle, they had both just lost a friend. Not to mention, now the possibility that someone was after Arthur had become a reality. Even the police had agreed.

In fact, an officer was stationed just outside Alfred's house to be sure no one arrived late at night to harm either.

"Do you think this has something to do with that body we found at your house yesterday?"

Alfred's sudden questioned caught Arthur off guard as he jolted slightly.

When he had relaxed slightly, he shrugged. "I don't know. In a way, I do have a feeling the two are connected."

Alfred sure did have a knack for saying something clever every now and then.

This was one of those times. Now that he thought about it, Arthur did notice both the officer, and Kiku had been gutted. Having been stabbed multiple times. And he was certain the man they had thought to been dead was behind this. There was definitely something odd about a supposed dead body disappearing.

Too bad he hadn't gotten a good look at his face. It had been covered in makeup.

"Well, I'm gonna go make myself something to eat. Want anything, man?"

Arthur's eyes widened at the man now standing up. "How can you even think about food right now? Kiku's just been brutally murdered."

Alfred rolled his eyes, losing patience. "I don't know about you, but I need to eat something to stay awake. I don't plan on sleeping tonight. So do you want something, or not?"

...Of course he had to have a logical explanation. "No thank you..."

With that, the man turned, and stepped into the kitchen.

Arthur began brooding over the last few day's events. Ever since he had given Francis that story, odd things had begun happening to him. Gradually becoming worse. Was there any way the frenchman was behind these violent crimes? Had he always been demented, and when he received Arthur's manuscript, it just gave him some ideas? But wait...had the body in the tree resembled Francis at all? And why kill Kiku? Nothing made sense...

"Ahhh!"

Arthur stiffened at the noise, almost too afraid to move. Alfred had just screamed. What was going on? "Al...you all right?"

Alfred dashed back into the living room, his face completely drained of color. When he didn't speak, Arthur could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. "Wh-what is it? What are you acting so queer for?"

Alfred just sank to the floor, the wall being the one thing to support his body from falling over.

Arthur heard himself chuckle nervously. This was all a joke, right? Why not expose Alfred's stupid game. "Come on, chap? What's wrong. Too dark in your kitchen to make yourself a sandwich?"

The man's blue eyes raised to find his as he wrapped his arms around the legs in front of him. "I...I just saw this freaky ass face right outside my window, man. And...I'm like, pretty sure there was blood all over it..."

Arthur froze. It felt as though someone had chained him to sit exactly as he sat now, not allowing him to move an inch. "What did you just say?"

Alfred's eyes seemed to pierce his as he spoke again. "There's a guy outside my house...with a knife...And I think the cop outside is going to be his next victim..."

...

_Geez. Can't Arthur catch a break? This dude really wants to kill him!_

_And who is this dude? Could it be a demented Francis? Maybe...but I'm not going to tell you yet! You'll just have to see in the next chapter! Muahahahaha! I know...I'm terrible..._

_Please leave meh some of them awesome reviews! I loves me the reviews!_

_And I'll see ya next time! =P_


	6. That Hopeless Feeling

_Yay! Back with a new chappie! This one's pretty short, so I do apologize. _

_I hope to have another chapter up in the next couple days, so check back for that!_

_Disclaimer-I don't own Hetalia. _

_..._

A moment of silence passed by. Arthur couldn't move, nor speak. Fear had claimed him. The only way his body seemed to want to react to Alfred's statement was to tremble. Dear God...why was this all happening?

He finally seemed to find his voice, as he said, "We have to warn him. Call the number he left!"

Alfred's eyes just widened, now staring past the Brit.

"What? What is it you're looking at?"

"Something tells me...we don't need to..."

Now the blonde was tiring of this game. "And why the bloody hell not?"

Alfred just raised a hand, his index finger pointing in the direction his eyes were glued in.

Arthur sat still. Did he really want to look? Gaining courage, the blonde turned his head.

Greeting him, he found the severed head of the officer just outside the small window to the right of him.

He willed for his eyes to turn away from the gruesome scene, but somehow, the officer's unblinking stare would not allow him.

A horribly loud shriek rebounded throughout the room. It caused the man to shake even more. What was that awful noise?

It was then he realized, the screaming was coming from his own mouth.

Immediately, he shut his mouth. That was the last thing he needed to be doing right now. Luckily, he turned away from the horrific sight, and jolted from the sofa.

He quickly found Alfred now was on the phone. At least it had occured to him to call the police. How had he become the sensible one all of the sudden?

Sweat seemed to seep from every pore of the man's body.

Once Alfred had finished on the phone, he set the device on the floor next to him. And when Arthur drew closer, he placed a hand on his shoulder, in an attempt to comfort him.

Somehow, the terrified look displaying on his closest friends features was not helping his cause...

As if that wasn't bad enough, a light knocking sounded from the front door.

"Oh, shit...The police are fast." Arthur heard the younger man say. As he began to rise from the floor, the Englishman grasped his arm.

"Alfred...no...that can't be them. You just got off the phone with them a minute ago..."

A blank look flooded the American's face. Then, after a few moments, Arthur's statement seemed to sink in as his eyes widened, and just sunk back down to the floor.

As if knowing what was occuring inside, the knocking grew louder, and more desperate. Arthur began to have the fear the door would break open. This night was proving to be even more perilous than he had thought possible...

What were they going to do?

Now the door was beginning to shake. It was weakening. Were they going to die before the officers even arrived?

This was bad.

...

_All right. I know this one's super short, but I wanted to upload something. _

_The next chapter, things are really going to start up. Betcha can't wait!_

_Please leave me your awesome feedback! =P_


	7. Breaking And Entering

_Back again! WOOT WOOT!_

_Soooo...now you get to find out what happens to Alfred and Arthur since the scary ass killer is trying to break in. _

_Fun times..._

_ANYWAY! ON WITH IT!_

_..._

"Turn all of the lights off. We have to hide as best we can." Finally, Arthur had regained enough composure to devise a plan. Odd that now the stakes were higher for his life, his brain would construct such a scheme. But he would take what he could get.

It seemed Alfred agreed, jumping up, and flicking the switches for both the living room, and kitchen.

Now...did they dare to exit through the back door, or should they seek shelter from the upstairs?

The banging grew louder, ushering a quicker answer from Arthur's mind.

It was too risky to try to leave the house. What if the attacker happened to spot them as they slipped out. Besides, the police had this address. When they arrived, they would take the crazed killer away, and all would be well. It was just a matter of minutes.

Minutes they needed to use to try and survive...

"Come now, Alfred!" Arthur said in a hushed, but stern tone.

Without a word, the American followed the elder man up the steps.

Arthur urged himself desperately to try and remember the last few chapters of his book. He knew this whole situation was oddly identical to his writing. And he was certain this instance had occured as well. Now if he could just remember where his main character had hid...he knew not to repeat that mistake...

_Under the bed! That's right. The main character was found hiding under the bed...and the killer slaughtered him. So...its best to avoid down there..._

He knew the bathroom was a no go. Not many places to hide in there...So where...?

"Hey! Arthur! Why don't we go in the attic? Its kind of hard to find..."

_Oh my God...am I in the twilight zone? Has Alfred actually said something brilliant? Since when did he become so...smart?_

"Dude?"

Arthur mentally shook himself. "I didn't even know you had an attic."

A smirk formed on the blonde's features.

_Of course he would pick now to act all proud of himself..._

"Exactly."

Ignoring his foolish behavior, Arthur merely nodded. "All right. Where is it?"

They heard as a loud crash sounded from the first story of Alfred's house. That meant the door had finally collapsed.

Alfred, without a verbal response, grasped Arthur's arm, and drug him off in another direction. In movements so quiet, it shocked Arthur, Alfred pulled on a latch on the ceiling, pulling a set of stairs down.

Sweat poured down Arthur's face as he heard footsteps on the stairs leading to the level they were now on.

Alfred raced up to the attic, closely followed by Arthur. Once the two were both inside, Alfred pulled the stairs, as well as the rope upwards, hiding the existence of the spare room.

Now all the two could do was hope they had made it up in time, and that the intruder would not discover their hiding spot.

Seconds seemed to drag by. Almost seeming to the men hours had passed by in silence. Neither had the courage to even move for fear the sound would attract the murderous psycho.

Finally, they listened as the footsteps approached the steps once more. They waited as they grew quieter.

It seemed the killer had decided to check either the lower level, or the back yard.

"I think its clear!" Alfred announced, still managing to keep his voice quiet.

"Yes. I would have to agree. I just wish the police would arrive here soon."

Alfred, who was already pulling on the latch just chuckled. "Relax, man! He's gone! I told ya this was an awesome place to hide!"

"Alfred! I don't think you should be going down there just yet. Wait until the police get here." Arthur urged.

But the younger of the two was stubborn. He merely smiled, beginning to climb down the steps.

Until a hand reached out...pulling him down the rest of the way.

He let out a cry as his head hit metal.

Before he could stop himself, Arthur shouted his friend's name. This was bad. The killer hadn't left at all. And where the bloody hell were the cops? Shouldn't they have made it yet?

"Let me go! Dude! I'm getting serious rug burn! For real!"

Arthur almost sighed at the American's stupidity. Rug burn? That's what he was concerned about? When clearly, his life was on the line.

He listened as the yelling began to fade. It sounded as though the killer was taking him into Alfred's bedroom.

For a moment, Arthur sat frozen, unsure exactly of what he should do. Should he run? The killer obviously knew he was hiding up there now. Or, should he help Alfred? And what about the police? Would it be wise to just wait for them to show up? Cease the horrific night's events?

No. He wasn't just going to sit up here and be a coward. Alfred needed his help.

Arthur let out one last deep breath, preparing himself to face against the man who had made the last few days a living hell for him.

Maybe he'd die...maybe he wouldn't. Either way, he wasn't going to back down.

And he would be a hero.

Without thinking, he let out a small chuckle. Now that sounded like Alfred. Wanting to be called a hero.

Then, Alfred's voice broke through his thoughts as he began to climb down the stairs. "Oh my God! It-its you?"

Arthur's blood ran cold at that statement...

They knew this man...

Somehow, things had just become even more dangerous than he had ever imagined...

...

_Poor Alfred! He's all alone with a scary killer!_

_"Who is this killer?" You ask? _

_You already know my answer! You'll have to find out in the next chapter! MUAHAHAHAHAHA! I'm so EVIL! _

_=O _

_But not really..._

_I promise, guys. I'll try and have the next chapter up within the week. My work schedule's been kind of crazy lately, so I've been pretty bad about writing. =[_

_Anyways! SEE YA NEXT TIME! _

_=]_


	8. Killer Revealed

All right...I am SOOOO sorry for the wait! Its been a brutal past couple of weeks. But, I finally had some time to write, so...here ya go!

And, in this chapter, you get to finally find out who the killer is! Woot!

Anyways, on with it!

=]

...

Arthur slowly decended the steps. He knew he should be rushing to Alfred's aid, but now he was terrified. They knew this guy. What if he was one of their friends? Okay...one of Alfred's friends that he had become acquainted with? This was horrible.

As his foot met the hardwood of the floor, a shiver went down his spine. What if it was Francis? What if he was a deranged psycho who had become so enraged at the prospect that Arthur had refused to meet him for coffee? And now, here he was, using his prize new book to act out his revenge on not only him, but his closest friend?

He heard as Alfred cried out again. Dear God, what was happening in there?

Arthur crept closer to Alfred's bedroom, listening as the man continued to scream out in pain. Plans were racing through his mind at the moment, attempting to find the best that would ensure both would walk away with their lives.

However, all fled from his mind when he could finally witness the atrocity unfolding inside the room.

There, on the floor, was Alfred. It seemed he had been stabbed numerous times, and it was clear he was weakening from blood loss.

The man above him had a knife cluthced in his right hand, at the ready to plunge into Alfred's awaiting body.

Before he could think logically, Arthur heard himself cry out, "Stop!"

Almost seeming to be in slow motion, the killer turned his head in Arthur's direction, and right off the bat, the Englishman no longer suspected Francis to be behind the horror that had been the past week.

"T-Tino?"

Arthur couldn't help but blink a few times at the scene before him. There was no way he was seeing this right. It just couldn't be the friendly Finnish man they had all come to like! Tino was always the one there to bring everyone presents on their birthday, or Christmas. And, when they had been at their lowest, Tino was always the one to be there with a kind word.

So...how the bloody hell was he standing there now, slowly killing Alfred? This couldn't be real. It was all a dream, right?

"Oh, hello, Arthur!" Tino exclaimed, his usual carefree tone seeping through. Was he really acting as though he hadn't committed countless crimes?

"What is going on here?"

Tino furrowed a brow, now turning his body in the blonde's direction. "What's the matter, Arthur? You look scared..." He said, beginning to step in the direction of where Arthur stood.

Fear seeped its way into his very core, as Arthur took a step backward, then another...then another. Each was to be met with another step forward from the eager finnish man before him.

"H-how did you do all of this? Its...identical to-"

"Your book?" Tino finished. "Yeah! I know. I work with Francis, so I was able to read it the same day you brought it in! Isn't that cool?"

Arthur, unsure of how to reply became distracted as he heard Alfred let out a weak cough. "Arthur...run...get out now..." He called. It was odd to hear the usual loud American moan like that.

It seemed this only earned a chuckle from Tino, as he raised his knife again. Where the hell were the police?

"You know, Arthur, the synopsis for your book was the perfect way for me to deal with all of you idiots." As he let out a wicked chuckle, another question sprang into the blonde man's mind.

"Tino, what the hell? Why?"

Tino furrowed a brow at the man before him. "Why? Are you seriously asking me why?" A chill ran down Arthur's spine once more. It almost seemed as the man's personality had done a complete 180. Just a minute previous, he almost seemed the same, friendly guy. Aside from the fact he was in the process of stabbing Alfred to death...Now, he seemed infuriated.

"Everybody took me for granted. Even Berwald! I'm sick of never being taken seriously! And you all are to blame!"

Arthur, hitting the wall, felt his eyes widen as he watched the blade of the knife close in on him, and felt the impact as it buried into his chest. A gasp escaped his lips, as he slowly fell to the floor.

Hot blood began to pour out of the fresh wound, and onto his shirt, staining the blue fabric as Tino ripped the blade from his body, a sickening smirk appearing on his face as he watched Arthur's expression reflect the pain he now felt.

He watched, as in horror, the knife was plunged into him again, and again...and again.

As if the unbearable pain wasn't enough, the crazed man before him brought the knife up, to cut across his face, laughing as Arthur involuntarily winced.

"Yeah...how does it feel to be so powerless. Your fate finally rests in my hands now..."

At this statement, Arthur was now completely sure he would die here. The police would never show...maybe Tino had somehow intercepted their arrival...

His blurred vision darted in Alfred's direction again, finding the man to have fallen unconscious, a pool of blood surrounding his body. He hated to see the man that way. It tore into his soul.

And, even worse...this was all his fault...They would both die here because he had wanted to dabble in the field of horror...

With that last thought, Arthur shut his eyes, awaiting the peaceful blanket of death to fall over him...

...

Sooo...tell me...Who saw that coming?

For real, I know its a stretch to have Finland become a deranged maniac. But, its not impossible. Its always the ones you would never suspect, right? And, since he does get pushed around quite a bit, I figured it would be an interesting twist for this story.

And, my sister totally gave me the idea. We both figured it would be an even bigger shocker, and creepier than if it was someone you would suspect, right?

I hope it worked! Lemme know what you thought, all right? I want to see what you think of Finland becoming a crazy serial killer! And, I would also enjoy to know who you thought it would be.

And, as always, see you in the next chappie!

=]


	9. Untimely Death

Back with another chapter, BEASTS! WOOHOO!

I'm pretty proud! It didn't even take me a week to get this baby up! WOOT! GO ME!

I figured I owed you guys since it took so long to update last time. I'm so happy I'm not sick anymore! YAY!

Anyways...ON WITH IT!

=P

...

Blinding white light.

That's what Arthur was greeted with upon opening his eyes. Instantly, he shut them, the brightness causing his dilated pupils immense irritation.

His first thought was of course...he had died. The last thing he remembered was watching as Tino kept plunging that knife into him. There was no way he could've survived...

"Look! I zink he's vaking up."

That voice sounded familiar...curious...

As the Englishman gained the courage to slowly open his eyes once more, he noticed right away he was now in a room painted a generic white. The blankets covering him were the same pale white, as was the bed he laid on. He was in a hospital?

"Hello, friend. Are you feeling better?"

Arthur turned his head to find both Francis, and Ludwig standing to the left of him. He slowly tried to wiggle himself into a seated position, but halted instantly as a pain erupted in his chest.

"Don't move so much. You had a nasty wound in your chest. Ze doctors said you vere lucky to still be alive."

Arthur nodded. He too was surprised he had survived. That was when a thought occured to him. "D-did they find Tino? Is he in prison?"

The two men exchanged glances that already told Arthur what they were thinking before they even needed to speak.

"Tino? You cannot be serious!" Francis exclaimed, surpressing a chuckle at the audacity of the man's accusation.

Anger filtered throughout Arthur's body as he narrowed his eyes at the editor.

"I'm bloody serious, you imbecile! He attacked Alfred and I!" The blonde slowly slunk back down as it finally sunk in that of course...if those two had no idea Tino was behind this, the police had not brought the man into custody...

And he was still out there...

Another thought struck the man. "I-Is Alfred all right?"

Once again, Ludwig and Francis seemed to look to one another, clearly hoping for the other to speak. It seemed Ludwig was the first to lose his patience with their odd staring contest as he turned back to face the man lying on the bed.

"Um...Arthur..." He began, his voice cracking slightly. This couldn't be good news. Ludwig _never _revealed emotion. Unless it was anger..."Alfred...did not make it...Ven ze police arrived, he had been stabbed so many times, he was pronounced dead right zere..."

For a moment, Arthur just continued to stare in awe. They had to be joking with him. There was no way that stubborn America could've died. He was too strong. Alfred had been in many a brawl back in his high school days, he had even been shot a few times. None had ever come close to killing him. So, there was no way this was true.

His body began to shake, and at first Arthur worried that it was rejecting the medicine the staff had forced into his body upon arrival. Then, he heard a chuckle escape his lips, even through the pain his movement had caused his chest.

Both Francis and Ludwig seemed to become quite concerned by his laughter, and Francis slowly knelt down, grasping the man's hand. Why did he have to be so touchy-feely?

"...Arthur? Are you all right?"

Wow...that was an odd tone for the Frenchman to have. Usually he was so flamboyant, and loud. This was an odd twist. He actually sounded afraid, as well as troubled by the abnormal scene.

Anger began to course throughout Arthur as this news finally seemed to hit him.

"Are you shitting me right now? Do you really need to ask such a stupid question? I was almost killed by some psychopath who's still on the loose, and my best friend was just murdered! Sure! I'm doing rather fantastic!" Arthur shouted, any trace of his previous laughter gone.

Francis, upon instinct, slowly retracted his hand, a hurt look replacing the previous one on his handsome features.

Ludwig then appeared, stepping closer. "Arthur, I realize you are upset. But zis is no time to take it out on us. Ve are just here to help you."

Arthur, feeling the shame already settling in, turned his head away from the two as hot tears began to pour from his eyes. "Oh God...I can't believe he's really...gone..."

For quite some time, the only noise to be heard was Arthur's sobs. The other two seemed too unsure of what to say to the man.

However, when Arthur had finally calmed himself enough, Ludwig seemed to be pondering something. "Arthur...You said earlier zat Tino was behind zis?"

Arthur merely nodded weakly in response, too drained to speak.

"Wait...You actually zink Tino would try and kill somebody? You _have _to be kidding me!" Francis interjected again. "I work with him everyday. Ze guy is way too friendly...not to mention cowardly, to have committed such a crime."

"I know what I saw..." Arthur spat, his voice just above a whisper. "And until he's caught...he's coming after all of us."

...

Creepy! Tino's gone INSANE! Killing people, and whatnot!

Like poor Alfred...I'm pretty depressed I killed him off...

But at least Arthur made it! Somehow.

Anyway, check back to see what happens next time!

I'm sure Tino will be appearing again...MUAHAHAHAHAAHA!

=P


	10. Reality Check

_Back again, dudes! _

_I know...I know...I'm terrible for killing of Alfred, and I feel horrible for it. But at least he's still alive in The Haunting!_

_And...for those of you who haven't read that one...I just ruined it for you...didn't I? _

_Oh well! There's a ton more in there to keep you guessing if you DO wanna check it out. XP_

_All right! Enough plugging my other stories on here! _

_ENJOY!_

_=P_

_..._

A few weeks had passed without much excitement for Arthur as he slowly recovered from his extensive injuries.

He had finally been released from the hospital, the staff urging him to keep his activity at a minimum. Of course, this would not be a difficult task. The man hardly felt like moving at all. His thoughts were still on his deceased pal.

To make matters worse, he was unable to attend the funeral. It had been a couple of days after Francis, and Ludwig's initial visit, and Arthur was deemed too weak to be released. While he understood, it tore his very soul. The thought of not being able to give Alfred a proper goodbye killed him inside.

And now, here he sat in the back of Ludwig's vehicle. He and Francis had taken it upon themselves to become his caretakers of some sort. There was no doubt the blonde appreciated everything they were doing for him, but he greatly wished he could be left to his thoughts for once. Even in the hospital, they had come to visit every day until he was discharged. They had gone so far as to inisit on taking him home.

"Are you excited to be getting out of zere, Arzur?"

Arthur's green eyes came up to find Francis turned from his position in the passenger seat to face him. A gentle smile was spread across his lips, and the Englishman knew immediately this was an attempt to comfort him. Everyone knew he was still devastated.

"I guess..."

Even though his tone showed his disinterest in the topic of conversation, Francis did not seem to notice as he continued on.

"I bet so! It must have been so terrible to be cooped up in zat awful room! The only women you could look at were ze nurses. And most of them were way too old for my liking." Arthur watched on as the man's eyes seem to shimmer in some newfound excitement. "I just had an idea! Why don't we all go to ze bar tonight? I am sure we can find you a lovely lady friend zere."

"I'm quite all right. I don't think that would be-"

"No no! You _have _to go! Zis can be a celebration of you being released! I'll even pay for your drinks. Zen afterwards, maybe Ludwig and I can stay at your place, no? Keep you some company? Unless you _do _find someone to go home with. I always d-"

"**Enough**!"

Both Francis and Ludwig jumped, startled at Arthur's sudden outburst. Almost instantly, he regretted shouting at the Frenchman. He was only trying to help, and the hurt expression on his face certainly made Arthur feel even more guilty. But it seemed Francis still did not understand his pain.

"Arzur?" Now it was Ludwig who spoke, and though he was still facing forward, his fixed gaze set on the road before him, Arthur knew his expression showed the puzzlement he felt.

Arthur let out a sigh, his still tense body relaxing somewhat as he did so.

"I apologize." He paused, bringing a hand up to cup his temples, and somewhat shield his face. "I just think its too soon...I don't feel much up to going out right now."

He heard as Francis opened his mouth to dispute the man's logic, but was cut off by Ludwig.

"I understand. But, I do zink it vould be wise to stay ze night with you. If Tino _is _indeed after you, he vould have a perfect opportunity if you vere by yourself tonight." The German seemed to know just as Arthur opened his mouth to decline, for he added, "Zis is not somezing you can argue. Ve vill stay."

All right. Fair enough. At least they weren't expecting him to go out drinking. Especially since his doctor had forbade him from doing so until his chest healed the rest of the way. Something about the antibiotics he had been described would not mix well with alcohol. Whatever the case, he wasn't ready to fake having a good time.

Once they had pulled up to his large estate, Ludwig helped Arthur inside, while Francis followed close behind with his bags.

When they had set him up on the couch, Arthur began the task of unbuttoning his shirt, exposing his bandaged chest. It was amazing to think the wound lurking below had healed as much as it had. The blonde still had a difficult time performing even simple tasks, just for the fact Tino had punctured his brachio-cephalica, causing his healing time to be delayed quite a bit. However, Arthur was not complaining by any means. It was a miracle he had survived at all. Even the surgeon who had worked to repair the major vein had commented he was definitely lucky.

Heh. Lucky...Could he really be considered as such?

The rest of the evening seemed to drag by, Ludwig and Francis...especially Francis, making light-hearted conversation until finally, the two decided to retire for the night.

Arthur had offered his two guest bedrooms, insisting he would remain on his large sofa. There was no way he would be sleeping well tonight, and he needed to be able keep himself occupied with some mindless television.

Eventually, after flipping through channel after channel, his imminent exhaustion seemed to catch up with him. Unsurprisingly, during his stay at the hospital, he barely slept at all. The fear of seeing the crazed Finnish man popping up and finishing him off was motivation enough to stay awake.

But now, his body met with the soft, over cushiony couch seemed to win over his will to remain conscious, and his eyes slowly shut.

Sleep would not last long.

A loud shriek was what greeted him as his eyes snapped open. Then, a loud **bang **followed.

And that's when Arthur froze.

He was back...

_..._

_Poor Arthur...He just gets back, and crap's going down again! _

_And who the heck is being attacked? Ludwig, or Francis? Will one of them die, too?_

_You'll just have to find out!_

_Please leave me your feedback, peeps! I love it!_

_=P_


End file.
